Requiem of a Priest
by Terrormortus
Summary: Follow Father Tyler as he tries to find meaning in his Requiem and navigate the dangerous politics of Edinburgh. Thanks to my editor Tileira for correcting my horrible grammar and Jo for creating the world of Edinburgh.
1. Chapter 1

The sun slowly descended from the sky, the masses of people moving their business inside where the steady hum of electric lights allowed them to see better. As the sky turned from blue to red to black the city was basked in a false light and a different sort of life filled the city in the absence of its daytime inhabitants.

It was then that Father Tyler woke up. Tyler was not officially a priest; at least as far as the Vatican was concerned. No one would give him an official title but for those like him, those cursed to walk the night, the Damned. Tyler opened his eyes and took in the dark room for a moment. A left over from his mortal days when there had been the slight hope that by laying there the day would not start and he could return to sleep. No such luck. Tyler sighed and got up ready for the night resigned to it if not happy for it.

The room was small but large enough for Tyler's needs. In one corner sat a twin bed barely able to hold him and covered by cheap white sheets and a blue comforter. In the other corner sat a wobbly desk with barely anything on it besides a pair of black notebooks and a few red and black pens beside them. All this shared the space with a battery operated lantern that dominated half the desk and illuminated the room.

Tyler picked up the right-hand notebook and pulled out a pen writing in careful lines his dreams and what little he could make of them. There was not much that made sense even to him but he wrote it all down anyways. Sometimes he read over his entries hoping that it would all make sense to him once he had time to think but more often than not it was just words that conjured nothing but confusion.

Setting the book down again he looked at the other book. The one on the left. The cap of the red pen was off and thrown to the side like it always was when He decided to write something down. Tyler retrieved the cap, finding it under the bed this time, and calmly slipping the cap back on. He looked at the book for a moment and considered cracking it open to see what had been written whether nonsense, riddles, or something he dared not think about. In the end he didn't have the patience or the courage and left it for the time being.

Tyler left the room closing the swollen door behind him moving the rock he had placed there to use as a doorstop.. He would force it closed but he suspected that would be the end of his little haven until he pried the door open with a crowbar or some such tool. Two lefts and a right had him at the door that led to St. Giles, the stomping ground so to speak for his new family if one could call it that.

His first stop was as always the small visitor's bathroom tucked in a corner.. It was really more of a social thing then actual desire for cleanliness. He knew once he looked in the mirror and the blur of his face solidified he would see the same clean shaved face, the same unruly brown hair, and the same brown eyes that always greeted him. Tonight was no different and he simply brushed his teeth and walked into the Cathedral proper.

The place was beautiful as ever and a stark contrast to the small chapel with leaky pipes that his parents had taken him to worship at as a boy. The dozens of angel sculptures reminded him of his own angel; the one who he hoped would be able to deliver from the hell he was in but she was not here tonight. Left with but stone and candles Tyler looked around the pews for those of his family and saw another sitting in the pews nearby..

He saw her and wanted to hurt her, violate her, do things that would leave her scarred and broken for all of the eternity they suffered. A very real part of him tingled with the thought of Vitae bursting from broken flesh as splintered bone accompanied screams of anguish.

Tyler strode forward with a calm smile on his face even as the wants of his other half faded into the background.

"Good evening." She jumped at his voice, startled for only a moment before regaining her composure. His footsteps resounding loudly on the sandstone floor and the candles that illuminating the pews cast his shadow long. Unlike the others of his kind he could not bend the will of those around him to ignore his presence. But he was not wrong. She was like him and if she did not see him she would soon learn to if she valued the half life she had.

"I'm sorry. I did not wish to sneak up on you. If you are here for worship I am afraid Black Mass is another three days away." Tyler said kindly to the girl whoever she should be. For a second he wondered if she was one of the Neonates made in the aftermath of the Culling looking for comfort. That thought was dashed as she stood to look at him.

Her dress gave away her allegiances though it was obvious that she was much younger than the covenant she served. She wore a maid's outfit, not one of those which starred in the pornos* that filled the shelves of adult stores but a true maid's uniform.

The hem of the skirt was much higher than needed however and Tyler doubted that anyone but the woman had something to do with that.

"I am not here for the Mass tonight Father. I wonder if there is another here tonight I may speak to." Her voice was high and sweet, swallowed by the stone walls of the Cathedral before it had a chance to travel far. Tyler smiled a bit at her words. True he could not disappear from sight but hiding what he was from the others of his kind was easy enough. Most likely she thought him a mortal servant of the Lance not a member.

"If you wish to speak to one of the Sanctum I can help you." He said not unkindly. Her eyes widened momentarilly before her face became a mask. Tyler let his own face slide into a similar expression though he dared to think he might be better at it then her.

"Then perhaps you could direct me to a Father Tyler, I have a letter for him from one of my elders." She said bowing to him and producing the letter, written on expensive paper and sealed with wax. Serviens Regis, for all anyone could say they were really nothing more than a specialized branch of the Invictus. That one was here, let alone bringing a message for him, was troubling to say the least.  
"I am him." She concealed an expression of surprise at his reply but not quickly enough for him to miss it. Tyler realized how he must appear to her: more likely a neonate or the mortal priest who resided here. Where had that man gotten to?

"Then may I present you with the letter?" The Regis said handing it to him. Tyler glanced down for a moment and when he looked up she was gone. He let a rueful grin color his lips as he opened the envelope. For all their supposed enlightenment the Kindred did enjoy a good exit. The grin faded however as he read the letter to be replaced by a nauseous fluttering in his stomach as he sped through the church and back into the catacombs wishing all the while he had his clan's legendary speed. Reaching his room he flipped open His journal.

Mad swirls of red half artistic half doodle with the thrown in at random covered the book's pages but Tyler was used to that. He flipped to the last written page and saw it was from three weeks prior. Tyler felt a sense of dread fall over him as he closed the notebook again.  
What had He done now?


	2. Chapter 2

Tyler quickly looked through His notebook trying to find some sort of clue as to what exactly had happened three weeks ago. There were accounts of atrocities committed that raised the faintest edges of memory but he blocked those out and continued reading through it all. Some of it was gibberish, simple ideas, plans, but nothing told him what he needed to know. As he flung the notebook aside it hit the lantern knocking it to the floor with the tiny tinkle of breaking glass, plunging the room into darkness.

Sighing Tyler sank to the bed, his eyes already adapting so that he could see perfectly in the pitch darkness that now enveloped the room. Pulling out the letter he read it again.

"_Dear Father Tyler,_

_Sheriff Amsel has requested your presence at Point Mort tomorrow evening at eight in the evening. He wishes to speak to you on a matter of some importance and requests that you send your reply as soon as possible. "_

The date on the top corner of the letter was today's date, so it would be tomorrow that Amsel wished to speak with him. Silently he tried to place the Sheriff's name to the man, cursing himself lightly for not spending more time in the city's politics. He knew there were two Sheriffs and that Amsel was the one that was less heard of, Sheriff Ames was the one who he heard about most often. He knew he had met the man…

With a start he remembered Amsel. He was a Gangrel and had come from Germany after the Second World War, what exactly he had done during it was a matter of debate and rumor. Regardless he was the Princess' personal Sheriff and did only her bidding unlike Ames that answered to the Higher House as well as her. What made him nervous though was the rumors he had heard from the others, that he was secretly the Princess' assassin.

Quickly Tyler reassured himself that he had nothing to worry about, the meeting place was at Point Mort and he truly doubted He had done anything so terrible as break the treatise of that sacred space. Besides even if he had the Keeper would protect him, it was his duty.

"Unless he's in on it." His voice crept out of a dark corner, cutting straight to the core of the knot of worry eating away in Tyler's stomach. It wasn't a crazy assumption, both Amsel and King were members of the Invictus and known to be personally loyal to the Princess. If she wanted to have him killed no one would ever know it, the Hotel was large enough they could spirit him away to a room far enough away from the common area.

"No." Tyler said speaking aloud to the darkness in the room. "That is not how they do things. There would be a proclamation, something public. None of them would do this, if people found out then there would be hell to pay…"

"Maybe I did something worth it." His voice carried the edge of a smile in it as Tyler felt his heart begin to race and a pang of hunger in his stomach. Cold sweat broke out on his forehead; the momentary comfort of his heartbeat had cost him. He had already felt the pangs of hunger but he had enough to push it off for another night before he needed to attend to it. He felt a tiny thread of anger work its way through him directed at Veritas for once again goading him so easily.

"You will not get the better of me. I will meet Amsel tomorrow evening and be perfectly safe." He growled lightly into the empty room. He felt his temper raising slight, spurred on by the hunger that now clawed at him. He needed to get out of here, he needed to eat and afterwards he needed to take care of Amsel so that…

"Who are you talking to?" Came the hesitant question from outside the doorway. Tyler spun and composed himself quickly before opening the door.

Standing outside was Robert, another of the Lancea's younger members though he was still Tyler's senior. His features illuminated by the glow of his own lantern were a tad confused, and concerned. Quickly Tyler tried to cover himself lest Robert think him some sort of mad man.

"Just myself. Sometimes it helps to say things out loud. But what brings you here?" He replied the familiar calm expression covering his face. He didn't like to lie but it was utterly necessary for him to do so now. At least he was good at it, a fact that troubled him immensely.

"Shushienae sent me." Tyler felt a bit of irritation at how Robert failed to show the proper respect but kept it hidden. "She wanted me to take you out tonight, make sure you got something to eat." Tyler felt a flush of embarrassment color his face. The fact that he avoided feeding was something that he didn't like others to know, but Lady Shushienae knew best.

"Thank… you. I'll meet you in the Cathedral shortly. I need to grab something first." Tyler said before slipping into his room again. Heading toward the desk he froze. Veritas' notebook was on the table. Tyler looked at it for several minutes before leaving the room, not daring to see what might be written inside.


End file.
